Journey to The Haven
by xXStarryKitsuneXx
Summary: As an unexpected zombie apocalypse turns the world upside-down, there is luckily a pair of men ready to face this event with their guns blazing: Arthur and Alfred. Yes, you should feel very afraid. Join the pair of countries as they journey for The Haven, the last stronghold for a life of peace against the zombies threatening their world.


_**Hello everyone! I'm back again with another story! But this time, it's not a One-Shot! :D My laziness is overwhelming! Anyway, I would like to thank my brain for keeping me awake to finish editing this story, because it took two hours and it's 5:57 AM right as I typed this! Also, I would like to thank Hazelstiltskin for not only RPing as Alfred for this, but staying up with me to pull an all-nighter while I got the slow typing and editing process done! Check out her YouTube channel and her INSANE fanfiction account, I guarantee you'll laugh! Thanks for reading chapter one!**_

Alfred pressed his back to the alleyway, peering around just far enough to see into the dark streets of the city. "Okay, I think it's all clear," He mumbled to himself, darting onto the pavement. After the apocalypse had hit doing something as simple as getting dinner was a life-threatening ordeal. But as long as there were still humans alive, it seemed as though things for the most part would function as normal. With the exception of zombies.

He quickly slipped up to a tall brick building, the windows boarded and the door nailed shut. It was abandoned... or so it looked.

Alfred wrapped his knuckles on the door.

"Uhh, Peter Piper picked a pick of... Peter Pickle piped a pepper of..."

He muttered, a sheepish expression crossing his face as his tongue refused to comply with his thoughts. After shooting a glance back to the streets to assure that there were none of the walking dead within earshot, Alfred turned back to the door and hollered, "Peter did some totally crazy shit!" and awaited a reply.

England, who was currently on the other side of the house the Ame rican had taken his time to try to invade, was sorting through his myriad of pistols and other weapons when he had heard a noise from the door. Grabbing his M6 and placing it in the holster at his hip, he went over to the door with a silent grace only a ninja could pull off. With a quick look through the peephole, he opened the door and pulled Alfred inside. After checking to make sure he wasn't followed, the brit turned to face his comrade.

"What are you doing here?"

After being jostled into the building, Alfred blinked at the weapon.

"Hey, what's with the gun? I'm pretty sure zombies can't spit like I can!"

After vaguely attempting to prove his point with a small stream of random and incoherent rap verses, Alfred finally registered the Briton's question.

"What am I _doing_ here? Well... you know,"

He allowed another cheeky grin to overtake his face,

"I was nearby and I was hungry and you have food..." He trailed off, blinking up pleadingly at the other.

"You ran out of food again, didn't you? When are you going to understand that you can't just pig out and then come running to me? I have to eat too, you git. Now come into the kitchen and I'll see what I can do for you. If you already didn't steal everything in my sleep."

With a quick glance to make sure the other was following him, Arthur led him into the kitchen and started to look through all of his cabinets.

"Let's see..."

Alfred bounced eagerly behind the other, smiling widely.

"Oh, come on, you know I'd _never_ do something like that!" He sugar-coated that sentence enough to give someone diabetes. This was obviously something he had considered doing before and was not against doing in the future. The only thing stopping him were the guns Arthur had.

Following the other closely, Alfred couldn't contain his words and tugged eagerly at Arthur's sleeve.

"Hey, hey, hey Artie. Do you have any burgers?"

Alfred almost drooled at the thought.

"Since the whole 'zombie thing' started, I haven't been able to grab one. Oh, how I miss the taste of burgers..."

He allowed a dreamy sigh, moving forward to poke and prod at Arthur's personal possessions.

"Don't touch anything, or I'll shoot you. What I collect is none of your business."

He grabbed some cans and boxes of food from a cabinet above his no longer working refrigerator, and laid them out on a table in front of Alfred.

"This is all I have right now. If you're that hungry, I suggest you pick something and eat it. Otherwise you're going to starve." He waited for America to search through the items and leaned on the counter, slight curiosity filling his gaze.

"What we're you doing out on the street anyway?"

Alfred snorted as he was denied access to Arthur's belongings. _Since when was looking through_ _people's personal items a bad thing?_ Deciding not to point out the obvious answer to his thoughts the nation instead folded his arms over the counter, peering intensely at the assortment of foods.

"Hmm... can I just take them all and mix them together?" He prod a can, an eyebrow lifting. "... Does this say 'pickled ham'?"

As he tried to imagine what a pickled ham would taste like, Arthur's other question reached him.

"Oh... Uhh, just... you know, walking around!" His gaze shadowed just briefly but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

"What are _you_ doing here?" He shot back with a suspicious wiggle of his eyebrows.

England looked shocked as his friend's absurd question, raising an eyebrow and tapping his foot.

"Of course not! This is all of the food I have left, you git! I don't just survive! I need sustenance too!" With a quick swipe of his hand, he moved the boxes more towards himself and grimaced.

"And what do you mean 'what am I doing here?' I live here you bloody fool!" Knowing all too well this was expected of the spacey blond, he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "This is _my_ house!"

"What are you talking about, man? 'Substinance' is nothing in comparison to 'tastes amaze-balls'!" Alfred leaned forward in a feeble attempt to regain possession of the food supplies.

"Can I at least mix the pineapple and pickled ham together?"

He only grinned in reply to Arthur's statement, though the gesture seemed slightly forced. "Right, _your _home! Got it!"

"It is mine! If you don't believe me how about you remove yourself from the premises? I've got better things to do than sit around and babysit anyway." He handed America the two cans of pineapples and pickled ham, starting to walk out towards the front door.

"Here, I'll even show you the exit."

"W-What? I totally believe you!" Even though the food he'd originally craved for was clasped in his hands, Alfred resisted leaving as best he could.

"Dude, don't throw me out just yet! I, err," Blue eyes flashed wildly in thought, "... had something to show you!"

"Something to show me? I'm showing _you _ the door!" Although he wanted the annoying American out, he decided to give him a chance and set the food down on the table.

"What do you need to show me? I have important work to attend to Alfred. I have no time to waste on such childish games with you." Sometimes his brain wracked with thoughts about his male companions brain processes.

Alfred stared at Arthur a moment, drawing a blank. "Uhh, I..."

He reached into the pockets of his bomber jacket- apocalypse or not, he was _never_ going to part with his trusty sidekick- before pulling out a dime.

"Just _look_ at how _incredibly awesome_ this dime is! It's all... dime-y, and... money!" He waved it around for dramatic effect.

Arthur deadpanned, looking at America with such pity that it could've killed him.

"Are you serious? In the name of the queen, you've got to be kidding me." England knew that Alfred loved to make last second excuses, but something obviously had to be wrong. He stepped up close to the taller man, not leaving much distance between them. With a heavy sigh, he rested his hands at his sides and opened his mouth to speak sincerely.

"Alfred, what happened at home?"

Alfred puffed his chest as the other drew near, fighting the urge to take a step back. "A-At home? Nothing happened at home!" He allowed a string of laughs to help oil his lie.

"Is it so wrong for one nation to visit the other? Y'know, for like bonding -time and such?" The American swung forward an arm to punch the other's shoulder with another laugh.

Hoping to divert the topic, he nodded to the cans. "Do you have a can opener I could like borrow? I don't think beating these together will do me any good, but maybe if I beat them against your head..." Alfred allowed a mischievous grin.

"Touch me and I'll make sure you won't be able to repopulate. Ever." His voice turning hard and cold, he slips a knife out from his boot and hands it to Alfred.

"Return it to me when you're finished. I use that knife." With one final glance at the other man, he spun on his heels and started to walk away.

"If you need to find me, I'll be on the other side of this house." He turned the corner away from him, jogging down the stairs, and slid into a chair where he continued to ready weapons for something he had planned.

Alfred couldn't help but feel relief bubble at his insides as the conversation took a lighter turn. Well, as lighter as being castrated could be. At least Alfred _hoped_ Arthur had been referring to castration.

"Are you sure I have to return it? This is an unbelievably _epic _an opener," Alfred sneered, laughing as he added, "Will do, Captain!"

He popped first the pineapples and then the pickled ham. The pickled ham vaguely resembled a nose. After mixing the pair of cans together and scooping some of the concoction into his fingers and tasting it, Alfred's face lit up.

"Hey, Artie! Come here, you totally have to try this!" He shuffled to the stairway and called into the darkness again. "_Eyebrooooows_! Anyone home?"

Just as the British man was about to load a shotgun, he heard his 'name' being called from upstairs. With annoyance in his voice, he waited for his ears to pick up the others impatient footsteps coming down the stairwell before speaking.

"I told you to leave me be! I have something that's ACTUALLY important to do! Eat your bloody food and cease from this household before I shoot you!"

"What? What's more important than _food_?" Alfred asked, spotting Arthur and staring at him as if he were crazy. With a roll of his eyes Alfred shuffled closer, peering curiously at the gun Arthur held.

"What'cha going to do with that?"

After spending a moment more breathing down Arthur's throat Alfred decidedly ignored the all other words the Arthur spoke and replied the final sentence with a laugh. "You couldn't shoot me if you tried!~"

"Do you want to test me? I promise to not disappoint.~"

With a dark laugh, he goes to stand up, the shotgun in his hand, when he hears a knock on the door. With a small stretch, he looks at Alfred

I'll be right back. Stay here or else." England jogged up the stairs, looking through a peephole in the door before opening it with a smile.

"I'm glad you're here, I was expecting you." From upstairs, the hidden blond could hear another voice. "Do you have our guns?"

"Yes I do. Two shotguns and four pistols? They're right downstairs." Arthur and the mystery person started to make their way into the basement, making light chat.

As tempted as Alfred was to disobey Arthur's command and follow him, for once common sense got the better of him. Well, actually, guns got the better of him. Stealing a glance back to the staircase Arthur had escaped to, Alfred snatched up a pistol and discreetly shoved it into the lining of his pants, pulling his jacket snugly around it. Maybe this would come in handy. The American nation took a swig from his can, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible.

"It's a little dark down here, don't you think England?"

"Well, yes, a bit, but only because working with little light is the only thing to help you get tired and sleep at night."

"Oh, I see."

The two figures of Britain and Hungary appeared out of the shadows, the female leaning over his workbench to glance at the arsenal of weapons in his possession.

Alfred peered out from the darkness though immediately perked up at the familiar figure.

"Hungary!" He trot out of his hiding place, slurping from the can once again.

"I'm glad to see that some more of Europe made it out of this whole apocalypse thing alive!"

The European nation whipped around, pulling a knife from her pocket, and almost cut the western country in the throat before putting the knife down and in her pocket in realization.

"Oh Alfred! I'm sorry! It's really a reflex now..." She gave him a quick hug before tilting up her head to look at him.

"I'm happy to see that you're safe too. What are you doing here at England's?"

After staring at Elizabeta a moment to make sure she wasn't about to pull out a sawed-off shotgun and begin spraying bullets, Alfred allowed a grin.

"Safe? Of course I'm safe! After all, what would you guys do without your hero alive and kicking to protect you?" He struck a heroic pose, laughing.

"That leads me to why I'm here- I'm doing none other than saving him from these zombie dudes! Ahahaha!"

"You're...saving him? Are you sure the roles aren't reverse?" She raised an eyebrow in concern and was given a reply by none other than eyebrows himself. He let out a bit of laughter, handing her the guns she had purchased from him.

"I do believe it's reverse. I mean, I did save him from starvation not even five minutes ago."

"Pfft! '_Starvation_'?" Alfred repeated with disbelief. "If I was starving I would've ransacked the nearest grocery store or something! I decided to ever-so-graciously devote some of my time to Arthur by visiting him and simply making his day with my total overall epicness. Maybe if he is lucky some of my awesome will rub off on him!" He reached forward to promptly noogie the other, still grinning from ear to ear.

With embarrassment flushing England's cheeks, he moved away from Alfred, fixing his hair and scoffing.

"Hey! Don't touch me you git! I'll cut you!" Before they would get into some verbal dispute, Hungary slung the guns over her shoulder and smiled at them, giggling a little before hugging them both.

"Stick together you two. If you need anything Prussia and I are right down the road. Take three lefts and one right, and we're the building with the green and blue flag. It's a tiny bit of a dangerous walk, but you two can handle it. I'll be going now."

"O-okay..." The brit finished fixing his hair before walking Hungary out, and shooting America a death glare.

"What the hell, you git?!"

"Bye, Hungary!" Alfred offered an over-exaggerated wave in farewell.

He faced the Briton with a beam. "What? You would've been bored out of your mind without me around and you know it!"

Alfred tilted his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. "And anyway, what's up with that? You sell guns? Are you part of some kind of gun black market? I didn't know you had it in you, Eyebrows!"

"It's not a black gun market. I give guns, they give whatever I need at the moment. And remember Alfred...you're talking to an Ex-pirate. If I want something, I'll sure as hell get it. Now.."

With clicks of his boots making their mark on the wooden floor of the building, Arthur stalked towards Alfred with realization is his eyes.

"You stole from me...and you're going to make up for it. My Desert Eagle. It's in your jacket pocket, is it not? I memorized the way you looked..." He glanced up and down America's body with a critical eye. "And there wasn't anything there before."

Alfred snorted at the mental image of a pirate England (which wasn't as far-fetched as it seemed). He was torn from his thoughts at Arthur's further words.

"W-What? Stolen? Stolen what? Ahahaha~!" Alfred took a nervous pace back, attempting to put on his best poker face and failing with cheeky grin.

"What are you talking about, man~?"

"Don't play me for a fool, Alfred. Give me the gun. Maybe if you had admitted to your crimes I would've let you keep it, but obviously the morals I taught you when you were young didn't stay for long. If that gun isn't in my hands in ten seconds, you're going home with a permanent limp." Arthur took another step towards his younger friend, impatience icing his voice.

Alfred pursed his lips, refusing to show the intimidation Arthur spurred within him. He made a note to get Arthur back sometime as he sighed and pulled back his jacket, digging into his pants and pulling out the gun.

"Fine, _fine_, you party-pooper!" It wasn't long before his expression returned to its usual smile.

"But if I had a limp, you'd be the one acting as my temporary crutch! That'd be quite an honor, if I do say so myself!"

"You bloody idiot. Don't steal from your friends. Especially ones that will kill you in your sleep."

Arthur grabbed the gun back and proceeded to walk downstairs again, acting as if he didn't place a threat on the other's life. When he noticed America follow him around like a lap dog, he sighed and handed him one of his M6's from the shelf.

"If you're going to bother me, at least be of some use."

Alfred's face felt ready to crack open with the way he was grinning.

"W-Woah, really?! You trust me with this?" He fawned over the weapon as if he could see the secrets of the universe in the chipped metal of the gun.

"This is freakin' epic! I'll be all, 'boom, boom'! and snipe some zombie and I'll like jump over a car and star taking out some more like, 'bang, bang, bang'!" Alfred swung his weapon around, spitting about wildly as he imitated the heat of battle.

While on the outside his expression looked stern and strict, inwardly England wanted to laugh with him about how excited he was. But, his brain over his heart, Arthur put a hand on his hip angrily.

"Don't swing that around like a toy gun you fool! At least put on the safety before you end up shooting me in the head! Can you be smart for once?!"

"Pfft, I don't know, you're demanding a pretty big thing from me!" He winked as he fumbled for the safety, struggling with it for a moment before switching it on.

"Now then, where were we... Oh, right! Die, you zombie scum!" Alfred pointed the gun at Arthur, grinning mischievously. He suddenly realized he had no idea where his can of food went but ignored that for the time being.

Stepping over to Alfred, the British man sighed, putting the gun down and handing him a holster.

"Wait, did you travel here without a gun? Why would you do that? You know what, why don't you sit down and tell me exactly why you're here? And why you refuse to go home?"

_**Well, that was chapter one! Tell me what you think! I would love to hear all of your opinions! Until next time!**_

_**StarryKitsune**_


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